


FE3H One Shot Collection: We Won't Walk Alone

by raspbearry



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspbearry/pseuds/raspbearry
Summary: Unfortunately I don't have time for a full FE3H fanfic, but I absolutely adore writing for it so here I will have a collection of one shots/drabbles for your entertainment ;D I will add more characters and tags as they become relevant.Feel free to use this prompt list to ask for some fic from me to add to this collection ;D https://mikumikubitch.tumblr.com/post/190539641229
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Mercedes von Martritz/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Mercedes and Byleth: Completion/Accomplishment/Travel

“Father, I cannot accept this marriage proposal and I would appreciate it if you did not consider us family anymore.”

Mercedes couldn’t stop hearing that phrase in her mind. Those were her words. Her words that she finally told her adoptive father. Byleth stood by her side as she said them, her silent presence at Mercedes’ shoulder giving her firm hands and a steady voice. She didn’t know how it might have gone without Byleth, the hero of the war, staring him down with that cold glare Mercedes hardly saw anymore. But she knew after her adoptive father had disregarded her letter that she had to do something drastic. Something final. Mercedes wanted him to see her conviction and to see her new life that she had chosen.

At that thought, she giggled and took Byleth’s hand as they walked the last bit of the way to Garreg Mach, their horses trailing behind them on their leads. Byleth looked over and gave Mercedes a small smile. 

“Is something funny?” Byleth asked, squeezing Mercedes’ hand. 

“Oh, I probably shouldn’t be laughing about it, but I was thinking of the look on my adoptive father’s face as he realized he couldn’t use me anymore,” Mercedes said, a little guilty. “Honestly, I don’t think he would have let me go if you hadn’t been there.”

“That’s not true,” Byleth said, simply.

“Oh?” Mercedes said. Byleth generally said things like they were facts, but what she just said sounded so sure it surprised her. 

“It didn’t matter that I was there. It was you that convinced him. It was you, being there, standing tall, that showed him you were your own person,” Byleth said, her smile so warm that Mercedes felt her cheeks heat up. 

“Well,” Mercedes said as she looked down at the path she was treading, “I suppose you are right.”

They walked forward, finally stepping out from under the forest’s leaves to see Garreg Mach, glistening in the sunlight. Mercedes shielded her eyes and looked up at her home. The home and the life she had chosen for herself, standing before her and walking beside her. And the past behind her; severed.

Mercedes turned and kissed Byleth on the cheek, getting that rare blush spreading across Byleth’s face. 

“Thank you,” Mercedes said softly. Byleth, still red, leaned into her, returning the kiss, this time on the lips. As she pulled away Mercedes couldn’t help but laugh at the funny look on Byleth’s face.

“Was it okay?” Byleth asked, her eyebrows raised.

“The best,” Mercedes said, still giggling as she finally let herself take this victory as her own. One final war won.


	2. Marianne and Ingrid: Hiding Injury

“ _Ingrid!_ ”

What Marianne meant to be a hushed whisper ended up being practically a shriek; albeit still a quiet one. Ingrid jumped, missing the stair and almost falling completely down before grabbing onto the railing. Even though Marianne was burning red from being so loud and almost making Ingrid fall, she still marched up the stairs and grabbed onto Ingrid’s wrist.

“Marianne, what--” Ingrid started, her wide eyes searching Marianne’s, before she was cut off.

“You’re _hurt_ ,” Marianne hissed, blinking back tears that were suddenly threatening to spill.

Ingrid flinched and looked away. Marianne’s hand tightened around her wrist as they stood there in silence. Did Ingrid think Marianne wouldn’t notice that she was limping all around the halls? That she had one too many excuses to go see Manuela? That Ingrid… _Ingrid!_... would not go to training for something as little as a headache? Marianne may be quiet, but that did not mean she could not _see_ what was happening!

When Ingrid still remained silent, Marianne said, “Why?”

“Why what?” Ingrid asked quietly, her eyes on her wrist that Marianne clasped. 

“Why did you save me?”

This time Ingrid met her eyes. “What do you mean, why did I save you?”

Her frown and the ice in her voice made Marianne’s hand jump away from hers as she took a step back, forgetting she was on a set of stairs and not solid ground. She felt herself slip backwards, and the memory she had gone over a million times, trying to remember the point when Ingrid had been hurt after the first hint that she was limping, rose up. Marianne could see it all too clearly, the sword jutting towards her as she backed away, magic forgotten along with the ledge she was backed up against. Her fall into the rocks as the bandit came closer and Ingrid… Ingrid with the sun at her back and her golden hair flying. Ingrid who thrust her spear into the man’s body and… there it was, his sword slicing into her leg as Ingrid shoved his dying shell away from Marianne. And Ingrid… Ingrid lifting her up away from it all… 

Marianne’s eyes she hadn’t remembered closing snapped open as Ingrid grabbed her around the waist. While that first second had lasted ages, the next few were a blur. Suddenly they were at the bottom of the stairs, Marianne cradled in Ingrid’s arms, completely unhurt… again.

Students rushed over, asking if they were all right and what happened as they were pulled to their feet. It was all too much. Too many people looking at her, too many people around her, and a bruise already on Ingrid’s cheek. 

Marianne burst into tears.

Ingrid quickly shooed the rest of the students off and pulled Marianne over to a nearby pillar they could stand behind. Marianne couldn’t help but see Ingrid limp now, which only made her cry worse. 

“Marianne… Marianne, I’m fine, I promise,” Ingrid said, putting a handkerchief in Marianne’s hands. She quickly buried her face in it. Ashamed she was crying, ashamed of everything Ingrid had done for her. It was too much.

Marianne thought she heard a tiny sigh as Ingrid put her hands on Marianne’s shoulders.

“It’s my dream to be a knight, it’s something I’ve wanted ever since I was little,” Ingrid began as Marianne tried to quiet her tears. “It’s always been very important to me that I try to act like a knight, even though… I may never _be_ a real knight.”

Marianne peeked over the handkerchief to see the sad smile Ingrid was giving her.

“So, that’s why I saved you. I’m going to protect those who need me, no matter what,” Ingrid said, still smiling as she squeezed Marianne’s shoulders. “Especially, if that person I’m protecting is my friend.” 

Marianne almost dropped Ingrid’s handkerchief she was hiding behind. Her friend…? But Marianne didn’t deserve friends. She didn’t deserve to be saved. She knew she was better off dead. She opened her mouth as if to tell Ingrid exactly why she did not deserve any of this, but looking into her green eyes she couldn’t put the words together. Slowly, she closed her mouth and tried to dab away the rest of her tears. Ingrid gently brushed some of Marianne’s hair off her face as she let go of her shoulders. 

“I don’t regret it, so don’t you regret it either,” Ingrid said simply as she left Marianne there. Leaving her no time to answer, not that she would have. 

Marianne held still, looking at the space Ingrid had occupied long, long after she had gone. As she carefully pressed the handkerchief against her heart, she thought, maybe, she would keep this knight’s token.


	3. Sylvain and Ashe: Hiding Injury

“This is bad,” Sylvain gasped, trying to catch his breath. Ashe was doing the same beside him, hands on his knees after the hard run. Sylvain looked back and forth, peering through trees and brush that was doused in snow. No enemy, but also no friends. Dimitri, Felix, Ingrid, Byleth, Dedue, Mercedes, Annette… he had absolutely no idea where they were. The light was already dimming through the trees and he could feel the cold settling in for a long night. 

This was very bad.

Ashe fished his bow out of the snow and straightened up with a wince. Sylvain didn’t even have his spear anymore. It was probably still where he left it, in some bandit’s stomach. Ashe nodded as he took in their surroundings. “We could follow our footprints back?”

Sylvain quickly shook his head, “And risk running right back into that ambush? We’re lucky we made it out as it is.” He tried not to think of the others. They were fine. Of course they were fine. They weren’t the ones who had been caught on the wrong side of the enemy. If Sylvain and Ashe hadn’t scouted ahead, they would’ve all been together to take on the attack. They hadn’t gotten caught in the middle, men about to cut them down from both sides, before Sylvain caught hold of Ashe, the idiot trying to shoot instead of run, and yanked him away. It was still close. There were so many. Why were there so many? But they’d gotten away, the distant sounds of a fight starting behind them. Of course they were all fine, Byleth wouldn’t let something stupid like a few bandits kill any of her students. And Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid? They were strong, he knew they were strong, and they’d keep Annette and Mercedes safe. And he had Ashe. He’d keep Ashe safe.

“Maybe we should wait for it to get dark and see if they light any torches for us,” Ashe suggested as he wrapped a strip of fabric around his thigh.

“No, we won’t know if it’s our group or the others if we just wait for lights,” Sylvain said. He sighed heavily and swiped at the blood that was getting into his eye. “We shouldn’t stay here anyway, the temperature is already dropping. We should go up farther and get back on the road and hopefully meet up with Byleth and the others then.”

Ashe looked up at Sylvain with those pale eyes. Sylvain tried not to get angry and instead clenched his teeth, it wasn’t Ashe’s fault that his eyes were like that. Even so, Sylvain avoided meeting them when he could. He couldn’t stand the feeling that Ashe’s eyes could see all the way through him without giving up any of their own secrets.

“All right, let’s get going then,” Ashe said, his face set in determination. His eyes might not reveal anything but his stubborn mouth did.

“Wait,” Sylvain said, “Are you hurt at all? I think I only got a few scrapes.”

“I’m fine, no need to wait any longer.”

Sylvain gave a grudging smile and swiped once more at the cut on his forehead, but it seemed to have stopped already. He looked back the way they had come and looked through the trees, picking the most likely direction. When Ashe didn’t disagree with his choice they started forward. 

It seemed like the sun took ages to set and at the same time the light was going too fast. Sylvain led the way as Ashe trailed behind, stepping into footprints Sylvain left. When the snow began to fall, Sylvain angled their path towards the road except… they never reached the road. It was all just snow and thick forest. He kept going, they must only be a little off. Surely they hadn’t run that far away. Any moment they would stumble out of the treeline and be on the road. Any moment Felix and Ingrid would be over there calling him an idiot while Dimitri stood apart, relieved, and Mercedes would rush over to check if they were all right. And the professor… the slight down turn of her lips would maybe even turn into a full-fledged smile. 

Sylvain tried to smile, thinking about all of them, but it quickly slipped away. He didn’t even realize how he slowed to a stop as the last light filtered out of the woods.

“Sylvain, we’re lost, aren’t we.”

He jumped, Ashe’s voice and hand on his shoulder breaking him out of his drowning thoughts and to the surface. Ashe stumbled backwards, falling into the snow, as Sylvain swore.

“Dammit, sorry, Ashe! I was… thinking too much,” Sylvain laughed lamely as he pulled Ashe to his feet. Just as quickly Ashe lost his footing and went down again, pulling Sylvain halfway with him. 

“Ashe, hey--” but before Sylvain tried to help him up again he stopped. Ashe was shaking. He didn’t look up but Sylvain could see the sweat dripping off his face and his hands, which had been holding his bow, were empty. Before he could ask what was wrong he saw something dark staining the snow behind them where Ashe had first fallen. In all the footprints he could still see were more and more dark splotches. Blood.

“What the _hell_ , Ashe?!” Sylvain demanded, his hand tightening around Ashe’s arm. When he didn’t answer, Sylvain shoved him over a little unkindly, and started searching for where the bleeding was coming from. He found it quickly, it was on Ashe’s upper thigh, where he’d tied on something to stop the bleeding before. Sylvain had barely noticed. The blood had soaked through the little piece of fabric and had gone all the way down his leg, turning his pant leg from blue to black. 

Sylvain pulled off his pack and started routing through it, “So, what got you?”

“A… spear,” Ashe said through ragged breaths as Sylvain pulled out a spare shirt from the bottom of the pack and started rolling it up. “Someone threw it… as we ran… got me.”

“Got you, eh? Didn’t think to tell me when I specifically _asked_ , huh?” Sylvain said while he put the shirt directly over the wound. He started winding a rope around Ashe’s leg and the shirt, tightening it spitefully, making Ashe gasp, as he asked, “Now, why did you pick today to be so _stupid_?”

For a moment Ashe didn’t say anything, just tried to hold still while Sylvain secured the shirt as best as he could.

“You were… worried about them,” Ashe said, his breath easing as he met Sylvain’s eyes. “It was better that we moved quickly and… and found and knew for sure everyone was okay.”

Sylvain’s first instinct was to hit Ashe and turn those eyes--his eyes!--away, but instead he clenched his hands tighter around Ashe’s leg. Did he know Sylvain skipped over other plans that would’ve been smarter, but not gotten back quicker? That they should’ve waited, but he just couldn’t stay still? Did he know that he still felt regret choking him? He should’ve stayed. He should’ve gone back immediately. He should’ve fought instead of dragging Ashe away. What if someone was dead because he didn’t? What if he went back and saw Felix with an arrow through his throat that Sylvain could have taken? If someone was going to die it was going to be Sylvain. How many times after his brother tried to kill him Sylvain thought, maybe it would be better that way? 

Could Ashe see all of that? 

Something smashed into the side of Sylvain’s head, breaking him out of his panic and forcing him to breath again. He looked back wide-eyed to see Ashe’s raised hand. It was almost stupid enough to make Sylvain laugh. _Ashe_ hitting _him_. This time he didn’t stop himself from hitting Ashe. His hand flashed out, slamming into Ashe’s ear with way too much force. Ashe recoiled, putting out a hand to keep himself upright while his other pressed against his ear. Sylvain immediately felt like shit.

“Ashe, I didn--” Sylvain started to reach over to help-- to help with what? The spear-wound or the injury Sylvain just dished out to him?--when Ashe held up a hand to stop him.

“You… keep going,” Ashe said as he leveled his gaze at Sylvain. “I’ll wait here, I… I don’t think I can walk anymore. You can come back and get me when you find them.”

Sylvain didn’t feel angry with Ashe’s eyes on him this time. He just felt stupid, and selfish, and a miserable excuse for a human being. Sylvain took a deep breath and exhaled. 

“Ashe, I’m sorry but I’m not going to do that,” Sylvain said as he closed his pack and put it on so that it hung on his chest. “You’re going to get on my back and we’re going to keep going together.”

As Sylvain pulled Ashe up to his feet, carefully this time, Ashe tried to shake his head no and said, “I’ll only slow you down.” Sylvain ignored him and kneeled with his back to Ashe. He waited. Finally he heard the crunch of snow as Ashe walked closer and tried to hop up on his back. Sylvain caught his legs and pushed him up higher. Ashe groaned as his leg was jostled but he managed to wrap his arms around Sylvain’s neck.

“Is your bow around somewhere?” Sylvain asked as he tried to settle Ashe’s weight.

“No, I… can’t remember when I dropped it,” Ashe said quietly in Sylvain’s ear. 

“All right, then let’s go.”

The snow fell harder as Sylvain started his march again. He welcomed the biting cold, it forced him to keep walking to keep warm. He welcomed Ashe’s heavy weight. Didn’t he say he was going to keep Ashe safe? Some job he did, getting himself in such a panic that Ashe thought it better not to tell him about his wound, to force himself to keep going. Maybe it had nothing to do with Ashe’s eyes. Maybe Sylvain was an open book that they all could flip through and tear out pages from. Sylvain shook his head, snow fluttering off his orange hair. No… maybe it was just Ashe himself. Maybe they were just too similar, with their pasts locked behind walls. Sylvain had never bothered to really _look_ at Ashe, but Ashe… had looked at him. 

“Ashe, you still awake?” Sylvain asked, feeling Ashe’s hands loosen around his neck. He didn’t know how long they had been walking, they were deep into the night by now.

“I’m… yeah…” Ashe’s hands tightened, but his head didn’t lift from Sylvain’s back. 

They walked on in silence except for the crunch of the snow beneath Sylvain’s feet. 

“Ashe… I’m sorry,” Sylvain blurted out before he could stop himself again. Ashe shifted, his cold fingers brushing against Sylvain’s face as he tried to hold on.

“For… what?”

Sylvain burst out laughing, his breath a stream of cold fog. For what? They may be similar in some ways, but in others the gap was oceans wide.

He was still laughing when he saw a shining green light rapidly coming closer. Sylvain stumbled to a halt as the light, in the shape of a small bird, flew a tight circle around them and then settled onto his head. 

“Ashe… am I hallucinating now or is there a shining green bird on my head?”

“There’s… a bird.”

Before Sylvain could even think about what to do next he heard shouting and could see more lights, but these ones didn’t fly at him. He took a step back, ready to run or hide or--

“...--vain…!”

“...--she…!”

Sylvain felt his heart leap. He stumbled forward, trying to force himself to go faster in the deep snow. If his breath wasn’t going all into walking and carrying he’d be shouting out their names in return. The green bird flew around them again as Annette ran into view, her hands the same green shining light. Byleth was close behind, grabbing onto Sylvain as he fell to his knees. Dedue, Mercedes and Annette pulled Ashe off of Sylvain’s back as Mercedes quickly placed her hands on Ashe’s leg. Felix and Ingrid were yelling while Dimitri looked back and forth between Sylvain and Ashe with relief. Sylvain sagged, the last weight leaving his shoulders. They were all safe. They were all alive. He looked over as Mercedes’ hands lifted away from Ashe’s healed leg and helped him sit up.

Sylvain met Ashe’s eyes and, for the first time, felt relieved.


End file.
